


The Heirloom

by volleydorkscentral



Series: Just a Taste - [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Short and Sweet and Silly, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 23:09:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20161657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volleydorkscentral/pseuds/volleydorkscentral
Summary: Bokuto receives a package in the mail he thought was lost!





	The Heirloom

**Author's Note:**

> Super short short that takes place during JaT (after BokuAka get their apartment) but I never found a place for. Hope you enjoy!

Bokuto burst in through the door of the apartment, making Akaashi jump in surprise and stab himself with his pencil. Bokuto screamed from the entryway, “Keiji! Oh my god, oh my god, come look!”

Akaashi sucked his finger that had been stabbed into his mouth, standing and going to the small kitchen nook. When Bokuto plopped the box he was carrying onto the counter it made a sound that suggested it was filled with something heavy. “What’s this?”

“It’s a gift from God,” Bokuto said sincerely. He plucked a steak knife from the rack and sliced through the yellowed tape on either side.

Akaashi raised his eyebrow, watching as Bokuto opened the box and tossed out several handfuls of old smelling packing peanuts (to which Akaashi narrowed his eyes, wondering which of them would be cleaning that up and when) before reaching in and finding his prize. He hauled it out and held it aloft with a huge, sunshine filled grin.

“Isn't it beautiful?”

Akaashi stared, uncomprehending. “It's a …cooking pan.”

Bokuto huffed, setting it on the counter—_thonk!—_and turning to him. “It's my great great grammie’s cast-iron skillet!”

“Oh,” Akaashi said, only barely understanding the signifigance. “That's cool.”

“No, no,” Bokuto waved a hand excitedly, “you don't understand. It's a _miracle._”

Akaashi laughed. “How so?”

“My mom sent it to me three years ago.”

“Seems like it shouldn't have taken so long, you could have driven down to Georgia and gotten it faster.”

Now it was Bokuto’s turn to laugh. “When my grammie died they started cleaning out her house and stuff, but I’d already left after the funeral—I’d just gotten a call back for a job and had to rush back to the city to start it—and Mom said she sent it to me but I never got it. It was lost!”

“Oh. And they didn't just send it back to your mom?”

“That's the thing! They said they did. No one knew what happened to it.” Bokuto looked down at the large, heavy looking black skillet, running a finger over it longingly. “It's been in the family for years. It was the first thing I learned to cook with from my grammie.”

Akaashi grinned, watching him fondle the skillet. “Why didn’t your mom take it?” He counted out the family members on his fingers. “If it was your great great grandmother, then your great, then your grandmother. Shouldn’t it have gone to your mom?”

Bokuto’s face fell, and he looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Oh… oh, no.”

Akaashi blinked, taken aback. “Why? Is she a bad cook?”

“You don’t understand,” Bokuto repeated, shaking his head and looking like he’d seen a ghost. “No. Bad isn’t the word for what she is. And she knows it, too.”

Akaashi pressed his mouth together, trying not to laugh aloud at Bokuto’s look of abject horror. “Oh?”

“Yea! God. She once made these tacos…” He trailed off, eyes wide as he stared into his memories.

Akaashi watched him for a long moment, then poked his arm. He didn’t move. Akaashi giggled and poked his cheek. Bokuto startled and looked at him, gasping with fright.

“Cinnamon tacos, Keiji! Cinnamon tacos!”

“That sounds awful!” He couldn’t help but laugh, though.

“So bad! And she burned something in a pan so bad once we just threw the whole pan away—didn’t even bother trying to clean it. It wouldn’t have worked.”

“Oh, God, really?”

“Yeah!” Bokuto laughed, shaking his head. “So, no. My mom _didn’t_ get it. She sent it up to me, but it never got to my apartment. It never got back to her—the post office had no idea what happened. It just vanished!”

Akaashi leaned on the counter, flicking away packing peanuts, watching them bounce off the box and fly off on the other side of the counter. “That’s weird. So how’d you find it?”

Bokuto set the skillet aside, scooping the styrofoam off the counter and into the packing box. If there was anything Bokuto could do and do well, it was keep a kitchen clean. It was probably the cleanest room in their apartment. “My old super called. She’s so old—I’m not sure how she still had my number—guess those old rolling things are good for something.”

“Rolling…?”

“Yeah the things with all the numbers in it?”

“A rolodex?”

“Yea! She had one of those. Guess she still had my phone in it… anyway! So she called me this morning and told me I had a package come in. So I went to get it and _voi-la_! It was here! No one knows how it got lost or how it was found.” He pressed his palms together, raised his face, then held one hand up in the air. “Thank you for watching out for me, Grammie.”

Akaashi squinted at him, snickering. “Are you _testifying_?”

“My Grammie sent this to me from Heaven. She knew we got an apartment together and she knew I needed to win your love with this special magical heirloom.”

Akaashi laughed. “You already have my love.”

Bokuto reached over and tapped his nose with a grin. “But this is magic. I’m going to find some real Georgian peaches and make you a cobbler in this and you’re gonna fall for me _so hard_.”

Akaashi giggled, taking his hand and pressing it to his cheek. “Sure, Kou, that sounds like a plan. I can’t wait.”

Bokuto smiled, leaning down to kiss him. Then he paused, pursing his lips in thought. “But where am I going to get peaches…?”

“Could send for them from your mom and hope they don’t get lost in the mail for three years.”

Bokuto laughed and gagged a little. “Gross! Can you imagine?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Until then, I know how to make pizza in this!”

“Pizza?”

“Yeah! We’ve got jalapeños, right? I’m gonna make one! You go sit down, I’ll make dinner!” His smile was broad and excited, happy to have what he considered a piece of his history back in hand.

Akaashi smiled, stepping out of the kitchen. “Have fun. Does it take long? We really should eat soon.” He didn't get an answer though, because Bokuto was already tossing the box away and cleaning the skillet while mumbling to himself about ingredients. 


End file.
